


A Good Man Deserves to Die

by Effenay



Category: Original Work
Genre: Free Verse, Inspired by 'the hollow men', Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe, Inspired by Music, Inspired by William Blake, Inspired by events, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8716282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effenay/pseuds/Effenay
Summary: "A Good man deserves to dieNot because he does not deserve the world;But that the world does not deserve him"A collection of poetry generally inspired by songs and events and thoughts that come from time to time.





	1. Good men deserve to die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A Good men deserve to die" was inspired by two of Billy Joel's songs: 'Only the good die young' and 'Honesty'

A Good man deserves to die

Not because he does not deserve the world;

But that the world does not deserve him

 

The world robs him of his jewels;

His crowns, his scepters

They cheat him of his gold;

His love, his dignity

 

An honest man does not deserve a lie;

For he is most truthful and the world is not;

For his words are taken with spite

And have his words twisted and turned against his name

 

A kind man deserves to die;

For kindness is reciprocated with cruelty

The world cuts his hands from his limbs;

And claims them as their own

 

A virtuous man deserves to die;

For his value is devalued in the face of the world

Weighing its worth against their own

And discarding it when it seemed irrelevant

 

A responsible man deserves to die;

For the world takes advantage of him

And passes its troubles onto his lap

Leaving him to pick up its pieces

 

A selfless man deserves to die;

For his charity is met with suspicion

All of his sacrifices were made in vain

And that the world made a slave out of him

 

The world does not deserve good men

And that good men do not deserve the world

For these reasons alone; one cannot fathom

Because in the end of it all; there was no such thing as good


	2. The Next Time We Meet

Two years ago we parted ways.

Every girl in school would have known your name.

For weeks on end I would deny the possibility;

That there would be a ‘next time’ that we might see each other again

 

In my years as a child

I scoffed at the thing we call ‘crush’

Always sentimental, always the cause of pain;

Friendships sacrificed for such a hopeless cause

 

And so now you come to me,

At such a time where I don’t need you the most

And here you bring me the unnecessary baggage

Of the un-ending nostalgia of my one-sided days

 

You who held a proximity between us

Made me believe I am unworthy

Though it was never anyone’s fault

Your overwhelming presence could only put me to shame

 

The next time I see you;

I wonder how I should behave

I wonder if you had an ideal version of me

And not one who had always been cynical and afraid

 

To say I am excited is an understatement

At the same time I hope you won’t come to my door

We never really knew each other well enough

Only passing ships on a sail

 

The world is too big for both us

And yet my thoughts return to you from time to time

You became my ghost, forever living within my head

What should I do in order to put you to rest?

 

As ridiculous as it sounds

I wish to never see you again

Just a figment of my imagination

Until the next time I see you again


	3. Defining line

In the times when we wake we sought for better dreams

In the times when we are asleep we cannot see reality’s plane

But the truth of the matter is, no matter which state we are in;

We remain unsatisfied, regardless of how much we gain

 

The grass is always greener, is what they’ve often said

We must always be grateful, but that’s always in theory

The satisfaction of our hearts is not prolonged by our emotions

For in the end, it is our minds that teach us and not by fleeting feelings

 

Of all the times I sought for wisdom, there was a price for every step

For every lesson learned, one element dies in our mind

The definition of who I was has been stripped from my heart

In order for us to be stronger, our past has to be torn apart

 

To whom should I be afraid to? Is it them or is it I?

What definition defines ourselves if both cannot grasp its true meaning?

To say the least, we all know a fraction of who we are

But for the rest is left to interpret whether we are right or we are wrong

 

The defining line between reality and a dream

If dreams became a reality, it is no longer a dream

But reality into a dream is considered a clear denial

To believe and disbelieve; it is the only way of drawing the line

 

Sometimes I think that the world means nothing

And that truth is just a way of justifying their reality.

At times truth feels like a lie and that it does not exist

And what remains are facts that are unbiased; a reality not interpreted

 

A world where a clash of idealisms spark the world’s interests

How low would you go to try and prove your own beliefs?

The risks they take to make turn a word against themselves

But in the end, everyone are just the same

 

Morbidity, uncertainty; things that cannot be defined

We recognize them as negative; and yet we are still out of line

Until you see the first shot fired; until then we will never see

That consequences of our actions won’t make us walk out free

 

And yet it takes us a thousand years to start the conflict again

Old bones resurrected to justify the casting of the first stone

Sometimes at times like these, I cannot help but wonder

Just how did we survive after everything that’s happened?

 

Reality and dreams; truth and unbiased facts

The price I paid for knowledge; the definition of our mind’s eye

Idealism and its biases; the uncertainty towards the unknown

For every conflict I see and hear, in the end I find myself alone in where I stand


	4. Kiss the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a great storm and Yiruma's piano piece: "Kiss the Rain"

In silent nights, we sought for a world of sunny days.

On summer days, we ask for rain.

And when the rain falls, we pray for a sunny morn once again.

The absences in our lives, bear fruit for endless yearnings.

The endless yearnings made us blind towards our gifts.

And so I made one request to the ungrateful self such as I;

To love the silent nights

And smile at summer days

And to learn how to kiss the rain.

 

To love the silent nights is to embrace the absence

To slow down and rest from the business in life

To reflect the things that had already been said and done

To accept the things that we can and cannot do

 

To smile at summer days is to find joy even in the most difficult of days

To be persistent to the things that bind us

To find a solution to the problems that we face

And then there you see that it is about the journey, not the destination

 

To learn to kiss the rain is find meaning in our pain

To turn our mourning hearts into dancing

To learn what we gain in the pain and suffering

So we may pass our knowledge to those who resembled ourselves

 

Even in the greatest storms;

Even in the scorching heat;

Even in the darkest night

Every pain becomes a stepping stone or a millstone

And our actions and mindset determines the fate;

Of what we make for ourselves


	5. Jasmine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Memory of Jasmine

To the sister whom I’ve briefly met,

16 years it has been since we’ve last met

On that fateful New Year ’s Day

When we had first met

 

Days and weeks, months and years

Time passes us within the blink of an eye

Although our meeting was brief

None of us will ever forget you

 

Although there are moments when I do forget you

And there are times when you are not in my mind

There are moments where I ask myself

If our meeting had some meaning to all of our lives

 

The little box for a cradle; fatherless child

A mother who tried to kill you; only for you to survive

She hoped to make a coffin out of a bin

Only to have a janitor unearth you from the dirt

 

Although the details of how my father met you

Remains vague in my ears

What I do remember for certain was how he ran

Escorting the janitor who carried you in your cradle

 

What followed after remains clear in my mind

My father running up the stairs; my mother followed in pursuit

My two sisters and I, my brother too followed

What we had seen that day couldn’t truly be defined by words

 

We all squeezed into the car, my seat replaced by the janitor

All four children in the back seat; despite how much we hate each other

My mother, my father, asked questions how they found you

And it was then did we meet for the first time

 

Smaller than a children’s doll; skin covered with muck

She opened her mouth; silence as her only voice

As a child I thought of you as nothing

But it took me another set of years to realize how much it stood out to me

 

Two weeks she drew her breaths

Two weeks she fought to survive

Two weeks was enough for the rumours to spread

Two weeks every couple wanted to have you

 

But two weeks passed us by, you left without a sound

A life lived for 8 months and two weeks;

To think you’d fight for that long

Only to have your embers smouldered within that day

 

My father was distraught; my mother wanted to have her

My sisters understood the value of life

My brother had nothing to say

Shameful as I was childish, I didn’t want to have another sister

 

To think of you despite my childishness;

I’m sorry it took me ten years to see its value

And another six years to realize its impact

For this was the first stone that became my first step

 

And although I cannot hear your voice

And although I cannot speak for you

For I did not know what you might have become

For I did not know who you really are

 

But with all things said; Happy Birthday

Happy 16th Birthday

Our guardian angel

My sister whom I was supposed to have

 

Happy New Year


	6. Endless Repetition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An omen of the years to come.

It takes us years to realize the pattern

It takes us 500 years to learn that we are progressing

It takes us another 50 to realize our mistakes

Human history tell tales of how the last generation was wrong

And that we were right all along

And so I wonder, will the next 50 years tell us that we were wrong too?

 

War comes and goes, but the generations stay the same

We find a reason to hate someone

Regardless of view, bias or physical aspects of another

If not one then the other

If not the other, then it would be another one

 

Take it like a grain of salt; the generation will always be the same

Just another set of idiots, of course this is all in context

For the pantheistic view is full of holes

And the view of anarchy remains undefined

Democracy is dead; utilitarianism mistaken for its opposition

Will it all end; will it end?

 

Authority in jeopardy; there is no such thing as king

There is no such thing as world peace

For our grandfathers’ sins becomes our fathers’ sins

And our Fathers’ sins becomes our sins one day

The endlessness of the curse we carry

Will never break for as long as we remain the same

 

The endless repetition, we carry it like a grain of salt

Another batch of bad eggs; a black sheep among the fold

Take it all like a grain of salt

For our problems will always repeat for eternity’s curse


	7. The Ghost

I am the ghost of another life.

I am the specter that no one wants.

 

For all deeds I have done,

I can never detach myself from them.

 

For who am I to judge the living;

When I have no place in their splendor.

 

I will forever remain in the past;

But will always become part of the present;

And will never see the bright light of the future.

 

I am the stone of another’s foundation;

The idea that was transcribed into words.

 

When the time comes when my usefulness has ended;

I will be cast away like a log into the fire.

 

For all things pass away

And the youth of tomorrow feasts upon my undying flesh

 

Endlessness and endlessness will forever follow

Sentiments will fade into the fray

 

Meaning and reason will become nothing but babbles

An ideal twisted into an unholy cause.

 

I am the ghost;

The shadow of another’s former glory

 

I am the ghost;

The figure of one’s adoration

 

I am the ghost;

The symbol of another’s regret.


	8. Exchange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In rambling thoughts of pondering words.

"Another man's right is another man's shackle"

"Another man's freedom is a stifling of another"

"One man's loss is another man's gain"

"In order to obtain something, one must give something of equal value"

 

Freedom is a word that fluid like water

For every perspective holds their version of it

It allows access to our own desires;

Caters to our daily essentials

 

But freedom does not come in equal value

In a marketing sense; it is a loss

In an emotional sense; it is hypocrisy

In a long-term sense; it is an indulgence

In a lawful sense; it is anarchy

In an ideology; it is a paradox

 

Freedom, once defined; becomes shackled

In an ideological sense, words can only shackle its meaning

If freedom is exercised, others would deem it unfair

For all are different and the world is not the same;

To say "yes" to one but not to all is hypocrisy

To say "no" to one but "yes" to all; it is also hypocrisy

 

When the right to choose is laid out;

It is in selfishness do we succumb to our desires

But in pursuit of them, the right of others is taken

If freedom is made, not gained;

Surely the world is too small and too limited to house everyone's freedom

 

What rights do we own if it is not a benefit to others?

And what sort of benefits exists where no sacrifice is involved

Equivalent exchange; the natural law in the world

"For every action there is action"

Newton gave us the clear layout of it

 

For every man's happiness is another man's pain

For every giver that exists, there is a taker

For every life that lives; another must die

 

Cohesion is a terms that can only get us so far

For man to house all under one roof can only lead to an overcrowd

As all benefits differ from person to person

 

No man is born equal.

But all are deserving of equal opportunity

But if all are deserving of equal opportunity;

Then what does that make of those who are not man at all?

 


	9. Icarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by William Blake.

“One day,” he cried; “One day,  
With these wings I shall sail;  
Across the sky and ride upon the breeze;  
And prove that man can rise above the ground!”

And so Icarus sculpted a pair of white wings;  
Made from the sturdiest of wax  
Crafted it into the widest wings  
And attached it onto his back 

On the day of reckoning  
He sailed across a ravaging sea  
And scourged through endless trees  
And climbed the highest mountain  
Until he reached the top of its peak

“Praise me!” he cried; “Praise me!  
For I have scoured through the endless trees;  
And outsmarted the ravaged sea  
And concurred over the highest mountain;  
For this I prove that man can overcome any trial!”

And so Icarus leapt from the highest peak  
With his wings he glided over the land  
With the breeze under his wings;  
He rode the winds and touched the clouds  
And there he knew he was free

He flew over the sweeping landscape  
And dared to raise his head above  
“Look here!” he cried; “Look here!  
Look who now flies above all of man  
Look at the man you once called a fool!”

And with pride he swept himself up higher;  
Higher and higher until he could reach the sun  
He stands there before it  
And with a laugh he cried;  
“Praise me! For I am now the sun’s equal!”

As he drew closer to the sun  
His wax wings began to falter  
With every inch closer and closer;  
The wings buckled and began to melt  
Until the wings were no more upon his back

“Help me!” he cried; “Help me!  
I have no ground to save me!  
I have no sail to ferry me!  
I have no bird to fly me!  
For my crafted wings have betrayed me!”

As he screamed in endless cries  
Icarus plummeted down upon his throne  
Tumbling, tumbling, tumbling, down  
And when he finally touched the ground;  
His proud voice cried no longer


	10. Time Capsule

The childhood of my memories

The vast emotions I once relied on

Let it be kept into a chest

And seal it under lock and key

And plunge it into the depths of the sea

 

In endless wonder let it think

In restlessness let it see

For logic determines the ground

And reasoning weighs it down

For feelings keeps them afloat

 

When time is of the essence

Release the anchor of reasoning

And raise it onto the surface

With a rusted key release it

And pour it out into the open

 

For there is a time and place

For emotions

For logic

For reasoning

There is a time to move forward


	11. Untitled

Though our hard works bore us fruit,

The fruit itself is not easily rewarded by its worth.

In our harden hearts, that remain bitter in our mouths,

There lies a cursed rot, that consumes us from the inside.

And in the midst of a thousand crowds,

One stranger alone, can bring forth a thousand deaths in his wrath.


	12. Untitled #2

In crowds of cruel ironies

loneliness devours the soul.

But in kindness it shapes itself

into a blunt dagger.

 

My world exist in the silence

Wild and loud pleasures crowd around me.

While the emptiness in my heart

isolate me.

 

Good men deserve to die

For the world is much too cruel

For their existence.

 

In the heart of all hearts,

My cries remain stifled by reason

Just as my mind is filled with

endless impurities.

 

What crimes have I committed

to become this desolate beast

Forever lost in the sea of strangers?

For faith is lost in men

Just as men lost faith in me.


	13. 17

Though the tale is long gone  
And though it is a tale that was spoken before,  
But in the wake of the new year,  
I realize that if you were here now;   
perhaps you wouldn’t be happy in our company.

Though another year has passed,  
Our troubles stay the same.  
More drama on the table;  
More trouble in the world.

My sweet sister whom I’ve briefly met;  
Look at us now.  
The frowns upon our faces  
reflect upon our world’s disgraces.  
Our sorrows met with regret  
Are filled with a void that we fill with rage.

And if you were here now,  
Will you suffer with us now?  
Will you lament like the rest of us?  
Or will you be the one to bring peace in our family?

Though our tongues are filled with praises,  
Those words remain empty in our hearts.  
Where is the heart that gave us hope?  
Where is the love that gave us comfort?

And in the end we suffer for our failures.  
And we cry out upon our own failures.  
And though we had the ladder before us to climb out of it;  
We cast it aside like a foolish mule.

Jasmine, my sister,  
Thank the lord you are not here.  
For you would have suffered tenfold  
By our selfish laments  
And our foolish hordes  
And our pitiful failures.

Though you were an infant with a voiceless cry  
The memory of it made us look foolish  
For the troubles that we have in our hands  
Were minuscule compared to your fate.

What fools we are to believe  
That everyone can be happy.  
When our wounds are tied to each other  
And the pasts we made became each other’s millstone.  
The idiocy of our own selfishness  
Has brought down consequences that cannot be measured.

My dear sister,  
No words cannot express how convicted I am  
To say that I am glad you are not here.

For our world is harsh,  
And our family are shards of glass.  
If you were here with us now,  
I fear that our sorrows will become a burden on your life.

Forgive your older sister,  
For this birthday greeting is a sorrowful one.  
But what I can give to you  
is the heart to say:

I’m glad that you were born,  
even though we have met for a moment.


	14. Wisdom of Youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the stream of consciousness.

A life brimming with fantasy

Filled with awe and wonder

We rise upon the ranks

And claim ourselves as victors.

 

But in our innocence

lies a shadow in the guise

of one-liner slogans

and ideologies.

 

To this day we ask our fathers,

and our fathers' fathers

To accept that our way

Holds more virtue and truth.

 

And in the lens of innocence,

We are fed with befitting attitudes

That has been long since abandoned

By its own creators.

 

Ah, youth that wounded me.

For what pleasure do I owe you,

to have you knock upon my door

only to leave me filled with regret?

 

And in your innocent ways,

And in your innocent days,

you make life prettier

than what it truly is.

 

To have my words scorned,

by my own mistakes

ah youth, you haunt me

pushing all responsibility onto me.

 

And in this world of youth,

No man, woman or child would dare,

to believe that none of it

was truth, nor lie, nor anything in-between.

 

To believe that all wisdom came from youth,

is to deny the truth

that our world was shaped for a thousand years,

and believe we moulded it overnight.

 

For what its worth, our youth

is drunk in their ideals,

unable to see

at the loss before their eyes.

 

'He who has ears, but do not listen'

A word that speaks more

than the thousand angry birds

clucking to see who lost more.

 

Like Charlotte Corday and black hand's assassin,

too innocent and naive

without the foresight to see

their path led to war and bloodshed.

 

Ah, youth. Darling youth.

For what purpose did you abandon reason?

Prosperous are you, compared to she,

Or he, or they, or those who remain unnamed.

 

To whom do you owe yourself to,

when the war begins

And the many men die

where do your allegiances lie?

 

When your line is cut,

When the lights are down,

When the network that's been built for 30 years,

crumbles overnight

 

What then will you do?

Who's side do you choose?

How does your wisdom fair

In a world without belief?


End file.
